He Saved Me
by AngelOfStory
Summary: Dean finds himself face to face with a familiar looking man, minus the wings, and finds himself intrigued. Castiel, the doctor who saved Deans life, finds himself wanting to know more about the man who saw his wings. Sam just wants them to get together already.
1. Chapter 1

Dean hated hospitals, ever since his mom died, and then his dad. He hated the white walls and the blue scrubs and the _smell._ It didn't even smell clean to him, it smelled like someone was trying to cover the stench of death. He hated it.

He remembered the tall doctor leaning down to whisper in his ear that his mom had died. Burn wounds, from the fire, were too great, he said. There was nothing they could do. They had tried everything. Dean didn't understand it at the time, all he knew is that his mom wouldn't kiss him goodnight anymore.

He was only four, he needed his moms' songs and her laughter and her smiles. He didn't understand, and he didn't want to understand. So he blamed it on the doctors, it was their fault they couldn't save his mom. They should've done more, or something different.

And then there was his father. A car crash, because the great John Winchester was driving drunk. And Sammy was in the car, he could've been killed too. Once again, doctors had failed to save him, had ' _done everything they could_ '. It was bullshit, he knew that then. He was 19 and finally understood what it meant for his dad to die.

That was the last time Dean had set foot in a hospital, even when Grandpa Samuel contracted pneumonia. Dean never went inside, only sent a 'get well' card and some flowers. He didn't visit Charlie when her spleen had ruptured, but she understood. She had her own story filled with hatred for hospitals.

So when Dean woke up and found himself being wheeled around on a gurney in a hospital corridor, he fought like hell. Because to him, hospitals mean pain and death and sickness. He wanted no part of any of that. No matter why he was there. He hated hospitals, and besides he was only 22, he didn't have money to pay for it.

Actually, why was he there? He stopped fighting for a minute when a gravelly voice shushed him and said, "Dean, there has been an accident, I need you to calm down." He looked up to try and find where the voice was coming from. He was out of it though; they must've given him a sedative when he was fighting.

Dean craned his neck behind him, eyes searching wildly for the voice. There were nurses in masks who were pushing the gurney, some of them holding down Dean's hands. "I'm right here, Dean." The voice said again, and Dean's eyes zeroed in on the culprit. It was an angel, like actually an angel.

At least, Dean thought he was, he had wings. And the prettiest eyes, like clear blue water and cotton candy. Dean calmed down, keeping his eyes locked on the person with the eyes and the wings. A man, he thinks, based on the voice. He tried to speak, his voice coming out as a squeak.

"Shhh," the man whispered, "do not try to talk. Your vocal cords and neck were injured in the accident." That freaked Dean out, if his spinal cord was injured, could he move his hands? He needed his hands to keep Sammy alive.

He tried to move, wiggled his hands and tried to resist the nurses. The man, maybe the doctor, whispered, "Your hands are fine, you are not paralyzed, only a cervical fracture." Dean relaxed, immediately feeling relief at the Doctor's words.

"Sleep now." The man cooed, and that was all it took for Dean to fall into a deep slumber.

********* 5 years later**********

Dean loved his job, he got to spend his days inflicting pain on people and spending time with Sammy. That sounds really morbid actually, the pain part not the time with Sammy part. See it's just that he injected ink into people's dermis and it usually hurts. That isn't any better... He was a tattoo artist.

He was amazing with his hands, and loved to create masterpieces on people that would last forever. It made him feel like something he did was special, important to someone. It made him feel important, and that was a rare feeling.

It wasn't like Dean wasn't getting any or anything, it's just that nothing else he did felt important. Working with ink was his passion, he loved it. The money was good, he got to see Sam nearly every day, which was also rare considering he was working his way through law school.

He was satisfied with his life for once. Sure, he didn't have a mom or dad, and didn't have a lasting relationship with anyone. But really, who needed that when you had a dork of a brother and an amazing career.

Truth is, Dean wanted it. He wanted someone to hold at night, someone to love and care for, someone who loved to see him too. Dean didn't just want it, he needed it. There are times in the day where Dean could barely breathe he was so stricken with grief and loneliness over his nonexistent love life.

Sam, being the bitch he is, decided he would do something about this. He decided that it was his duty to bring Dean the love of his life. Or have them crash into each other in a hospital room. Literally.

When Dean was having one of his "moments" as he liked to call them, Sam called an ambulance. Even after resisting their help, Dean was carted off to the hospital. Did Dean mention he hated hospitals? Because he does, with a fiery passion.

He had x-rays of his chest and mri's of his head. After all that, a nurse came in to tell Sam and Dean that he was pretty much fine and could go home. A simple explanation of, "You had a panic attack. Your lungs are fine, your heart is fine, there is really no reason to stay." Well, not exactly that but that was the gist of it.

Dean wanted out of the hospital as soon as possible, so he went on his merry way and sped towards the door. He didn't make it to the door though, because suddenly there was a brick wall in front of him. Not literally a brick wall, but it was pretty hard. Plus, his skull came in contact with something and now he was on his butt. He looked up to see a doctor looking down at him and rubbing his forehead.

"Oh, pardon me." The man growled out, and even though he was apologizing it sounded like he was gearing up for war. "I just wanted to see how we were getting along," He spoke again, and okay maybe it was just his voice.

The nurse quickly stepped forward to explain that they were just leaving as Sam helped Dean to his feet. Dean rubbed at his nose and felt blood dripping from his finger. Searing pain shot up the bridge of his nose whenever he touched it a certain way. He quickly put his hand down.

The doctor looked over and noticed the blood running down Dean's face, his own morphing from emotionless to concern. "Oh." He stated, before grabbing some tissues and holding them under his nose. His hand on the back of Dean's neck sent chills through his bones.

Dean's hand found the mans' lab coat, and clung on while the doctor tilted his head forward and wiped away blood from his lips. Pain laced up into Dean's skull still, bring tears to his eyes. He didn't let them out though, forcing them back in because he wasn't weak.

Slowly, the blood came to a stop, and the man threw out the bloody tissues and began washing his hand. "I suspect you might have a black eye or two, but I don't think you will have a concussion." He took out a flashlight from his pocket and shined them in Dean's eyes.

Dean stared back at him, only now realizing that this man was familiar. Something about him, _the eyes_ , Dean thinks. His eyes were incredibly blue, sparkling like they held the secrets to the universe. Dean could drown in those eyes.

Then it hit him, he was the angel. From five years ago, this man was the same doctor that had saved Dean's life. It was more than just a cervical fracture, he would have been paralyzed and possibly dead if it wasn't for this man.

"You're the angel." Dean blurted out, mentally slapping himself on the forehead. Sam only scoffed, "Wow, I knew you had some shitty pickup lines, but really Dean?" Immediately, blood rushed to his cheeks and he looked down at his shoes.

The doctor only chuckled slightly, "Well, I am no angel, but thank you. My name is Doctor Castiel Novak. And yes, I was the one that operated on you some years ago. I thought your name sounded familiar."

Dean was sure that this man was his Angel, yeah he was the doctor but Dean could have sworn he had wings. "You had wings. They were black, and spread out. They were beautiful." Dean spoke with awe in his voice.

Sam merely sighed, "I think he might actually have a concussion Doctor." The man nearly huffed and resumed his tests on Dean. Dean stared up at him, hoping to catch some glimpse of truth in the mans' eyes.

Doctor Novak stared back at Dean. It wasn't until Sam cleared his throat that Dean realized they were literally staring at each other. The doctor looked away and wrote something down on his paper. Then, without warning, he clicked his pen and said, "There may be a possibility of a concussion, but we cannot know for sure right now."

He tore off a piece of paper from his notebook and wrote something down on it. He handed it to Sam, with an explanation of, "If anything gets worse or changes, this is my personal number. Usually I would refrain from giving out such personal detail, but considering I may have been the one to give him a concussion, I think it is necessary in this case."

Dean could only stare at the man, not understanding a word he was saying, too busy trying to figure out where he was hiding his wings. Sam took the piece of paper from his hands and pushed it into his pocket, nodding along with what the doctor was saying.

After that, Sam grabbed Dean by the arm and hauled him up. "Time to go." He stated, pushing Dean towards the door with gentleness. Dean walked on unsteady legs, dizzy from the fall. Sam helped him out through the hospital doors and into the impala.

Once comfortable in the car, Dean stared out the window, wondering about Doctor Novak. Sam started the car, turning back to see Dean zoning out. "Hello…?" He said, waving a hand in front of Dean's face. It was enough to bring Dean out of his daze, and he refocused onto Sam's face. "Listen Sammy, I know this is gonna sound crazy but I swear that man is an angel. I saw his wings."

Sam shook his head, "Dean, he doesn't have wings. And don't call me Sammy, Sammy is a chubby twelve-year-old." With that, Sam took off down the road and headed to Dean's apartment.


	2. Chapter 2

Sam unlocked the door to Dean's apartment and pushed it wide open, before stepping across the threshold. He quickly set the papers down from the hospital on a nearby table and went to help Dean in.

After entering his own space, Dean made a beeline for the bedroom and collapsed onto the bed. Before he could fall asleep, however, Sam went in with a few questions. "What do you mean you saw his wings?" Dean groaned, and shifted around in bed until he could see Sam.

"Remember that operation I had a few years back?" At Sam's nod, Dean continued, "Well I woke up before I went into the OR and saw this Doctor Novak. He was above me, helping push the cart and I swear man he had these giant ass wings. He kept shushing me and telling me what happened, and every time he talked his wings would flap a little. Yeah, I didn't believe it myself at first, but I know what I saw."

Dean could see the disbelief in Sam's eyes, could see the cogs turning in his head as he tried to process what Dean had said. He sighed, and rolled back over until his face was covered with a pillow. That's when Sam said, "Alright, I'll look somethings up, but I'm not saying that I believe you."

That made Dean turn around to stare back at Sam, "Now why would you do that if you don't believe me?" He knew it sounded like he was accusing Sam of… something. But honestly, that wasn't on his radar. He stared Sam down until Sam shifted and spoke, "I may have seen something similar to what you saw."

Now it was Dean's face that showed disbelief. "What?" He spluttered out, throwing himself into a sitting position. "What do you mean you 'may have seen something similar'. When? Why didn't you tell me?" Sam held up his hands to stop anymore oncoming questions.

"It was a while ago, when I was like 15 I think. You remember when I was in that car crash with Dad? There was a man there, and I could have sworn he had sandy colored wings." That made Dean want to leap with joy, he wasn't crazy!

Sam simply shushed him, and pushed Dean back into a lying position, "I'm gonna do some research and see if there is anything related to this. You need to sleep though; I know you are tired."

Actually, now that it was mentioned, Dean was feeling quite sluggish. He allowed himself to be prepped for bed like a snotty three-year-old, knowing that once Sam used his mom voice, there was no fighting it.

He fell asleep quite quickly, despite his racing thoughts about black wings and bright blue eyes.

The smell of coffee and pie was enough to rouse Dean from the deep slumber he had fallen into. His eyes opened slowly, somewhat crusted shut with sleep. He blinked a few times, allowing his eyes to focus on the white ceiling above him. When he felt he was awake enough to move without and trouble of falling over, he turned to look out the window.

It was still dark, just as it was when he had fallen asleep. Perhaps he hadn't slept that long, although he questioned why Sam was making coffee so early in the morning then. He rose to a sitting position, finding a robe to hide his batman boxers. He didn't remember getting undressed…

He shuffled out of his room, sniffing around for the pie when he saw two bodies at the kitchen counter. So, Sam was still over obviously, but who was the guest? Dean made his way to the counter, trying to catch a glimpse at the person's face in hopes of recognizing who it was.

When Sam realized Dean was up and about, he immediately straightened and rushed forward to grip Dean's shoulders. "Oh my god, you're awake!" Then he turned to the mysterious guest and said, "I told you coffee and pie would wake him."

That's when Dean saw who was sitting at his kitchen counter, it was Doctor Novak. Dean stumbled over his words, finally getting out, "I haven't been asleep that long, why is Doctor Novak over?" Dean knew he sounded quite rude but he couldn't bring himself to care. The man at his counter was staring deeply at him, with a look of concern in his eyes.

"Uhhh, you've been out for almost 48 hours, dude. I called Doctor Novak over because I was beginning to worry." Sam drew Dean's attention back to him, and Dean noticed for the first time that Sam was in different clothes.

Wow, maybe he _had_ slept for longer than he thought. 48 hours though, that must've been some new record for him. "So how long has he been here?" Again with the harshness. Sam's eyes bulged, looking kind of funny to Dean, "Dean, manners. And he's only been here a few hours. He suggested unclothing you to cool you off and cooking food to wake you up. I didn't really believe him but I mean, it worked so kudos to him."

Dean shook his head, "So, he's the reason I'm not clothed. Wow, that's kind of awkward dude."

That's when the doctor spoke for the first time, "It has not been the first time I've undressed you, Dean. I have had you on my operating table, you know." Dean smirked at that and whispered _"Kinky"_ under his breath. Novak heard it though, and once again zeroed his stare onto Dean.

Sam, not picking up on what was said or the way the doctor was reacting, offered Dean some coffee. "I know it's like 4 in the morning, but you haven't eaten or drunk anything in two days so you must be thirsty." Dean shrugged at that, sure he was a little thirsty, but it wasn't like his throat felt like the Sahara Desert.

Okay, it did. He gladly accepted the cup of coffee, black just how he liked it. The bitter taste was a welcome to Dean's dry taste buds, and he hungrily slurped it down. After one cup, however, Sam handed him a glass of water. It looked like that was all the coffee he was going to get.

After two more glasses of water, Dean set down the cup, his thirst satisfied for now. Doctor Novak took that as his signal to begin his tests on Dean, shining his flashlight in his eyes. "So doc, anything wrong with me this time?"

The doctor only huffed as a response and grounded out, "I believe you do have a concussion, considering how one of your pupils is more dilated than the other. I must request that you come to the hospital for tests. Also so I can keep a watch over you in case this progresses into anything more serious."

Dean didn't like that. At all. He hates hospitals, the last thing he wants to do is spend more time there. "Listen doc, as much as I would love to spend more time with you in that place, I really don't want to." Dean knew he didn't have the money for it, and besides, he needed to get back to work as soon as possible.

Doctor Novak didn't accept that answer though, and said, "I'm sorry but I really must insist. There is a possibility of some serious trauma to the brain and I do not wish to risk further damage."

Sam agreed silently, nodding his head along to everything the good doctor was saying. Ugh, Dean really didn't want to go back there. "My name is Castiel, by the way." The Doctor said after a moment of silence, almost like an afterthought. _What the hell kind of name is Castiel._

Dean sat stunned for a short time, feeling a little betrayed by his brother. He sighed, giving into _Castiel_ 's request. "Fine, let's go." He grabbed his coat off of the hanger and went to grab his keys before a hand stopped him.

"We will be taking my car; you are in no position to drive." Dean looked up to find Castiel's eyes boring into him and damn that sent chills down his spine. "Fine, whatever you say doc." Dean said with an eye roll.

When they arrived at the hospital, Dean breathed a sigh of relief. The doctors' car was a rickety old corvette that was on its last stretch of life. It honestly sounded like it could give out at any moment, and personally, that isn't how Dean wanted to go.

Dean checked into the residential part of the hospital, and was led to his room by Castiel. This room was almost exactly the same one as the one he had been in before, only difference was there was a huge comforter covering the bed. Interesting.

Castiel entered the room, sweeping his hand across it like he was showing it off at some auction house. "This is your room, it's right next to my office so you can just yell if you need assistance." Dean felt a little weird about that. Why was the doctor taking such an interest in him anyway?

Dean nodded, setting down his jacket and climbing into bed. Castiel pulled out scrubs from the top of a shelf and set them down at the end of the bed. "You will wear this while you are here, understood?" and geez, bossy much?

He nodded and hopped off of the bed, fingering the material of the scrub top. "Uhhh, you gonna let me change or what?" Dean said after a moment too long of Castiel just standing there, staring at Dean.

It spurred him into action, and Castiel mumbled an apology while backing out of the room. _Weirdo._ Nonetheless, he was given orders and didn't intend to break them. He slipped easily into the outfit, feeling slightly uncomfortable at the chafing feeling on his thighs. He would get passed it though.

There was a knock at the door, and that was all the warning Dean got before the door opened and in walked a nurse. She was a shy, little thing. "Oh," the woman squeaked, "Doctor Novak asked me to check on you and see if you were settling in alright." She kind of reminded him of a mouse…

Oh, there was a question there. "Uhhh, yeah, I'm good." Dean turned back to his bed and climbed on top. He settled under the comforters and waited for the mousy woman to leave. Since he didn't offer any other explanation, the nurse finally left the room after writing something down on a notepad.

Geez, people and their notepads here. Dean settled further down into the bed, pulling the comforter up and around his ears. He tried to bury his face in them, attempting to drown out the smell of hospital.

This is really weird.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Hey angels, follow my tumblr AngelRahmiel to be updated on this fanfiction and other fanfictions I will be working on! Thank you so much for the support, ciao!**

Dean fell asleep in the lumpy hospital bed listening to the sounds of footsteps outside and a heart monitor beeping. He unusually felt at peace here, like he was safe almost. It surprised the hell out of him that he even wanted to be there.

He knew he was safe though, Castiel's office was just next door and he knew he could ask anything. Castiel came into Dean's room to check up on him every other hour or so. He checked vitals and asked a bunch of seemingly random questions.

Questions like, "Do you have any pets?" or "Are you currently in a relationship?". The last one seemed really weird to Dean, like, why would he need to know that? Sure Dean knew that Castiel was a hottie, anyone who wasn't blind could see that. But he didn't know if he was allowed to be interested, romantically speaking.

Castiel didn't show any indication of interest in Dean. His face was always emotionless and he kept his touch clinical. It was almost like he couldn't tell that Dean was flirting with him. And Dean was, hardcore.

He would bat his eyelashes and try to touch his arm or laugh at something he said. If he was honest, it was getting a little tiring. Sure, Dean had only been there for a night but man if anything was going to happen between them, it would've already happened.

Dean was woken the next day to a whistling Sam and an emotionless Castiel. He rubbed at his eyes and yawned, sitting forward in the bed. He hadn't really been let out to wander quite yet, but he was sure he could convince Castiel to let him.

Sam smiled at Dean and dropped a bag of food on his lap, along with some napkins. He set a cup of coffee on the table near the bed and took the nearest seat. Castiel began his boring routine of checking over the vitals, making _hmm_ ing noises every now and then.

After he was finished, he began gathering his stuff but Sam put a hand on his arm to stop him. "C'mon, sit down for a while and hang out." Castiel stared at the hand before looking up at Sam. "I have other patients to tend to," Was the only explanation Castiel gave before basically running out of the room.

"That was weird," Sam said, watching Castiel run off. Dean felt his sudden surge of jealous relax when Castiel rejected Sam as well. If anyone got to bang the hot doctor, it should be him, right? "Yeah, he hasn't been responding to my advances as well."

Sam's head whipped around to stare at Dean, before saying, "No, no, that isn't what I meant it to seem like. You know I'm in a relationship with Jess! I just thought it'd be nice for him to relax a little."

Dean shrugged at Sam's response, brushing off the remark about Castiel being uptight. Castiel was _not_ uptight, okay? Maybe just a little… stressed out. "For all I know you and Jess coulda broken it off weeks ago." Dean spat out, feeling a little heated from the jealousy still.

Sam didn't allow the remark to affect him though, replying, "I know that I haven't really kept you up to date with that sort of thing. I'm sorry, alright?" Dean didn't look up from where he was toying with the paper bag.

So far, this day was not going how Dean had wanted it to go. He shook himself out of his bad mood and looked up, plastering a bright smile on his face. Sam snorted, "Okay, now you look a little homicidal." Dean flipped him off.

"Thanks for the food by the way, bitch." Sam laughed, throwing a "Jerk." Into the air. They sipped their coffee in unison, trying not to make things awkward. After the silence had stretched a little too long, Dean decided to speak up.

Of course, that's when Castiel decided to burst into the room. "Sam, out, now." He demanded, sounding pretty scary. "Uhhh, yeah sure man, what's going on?" Sam stood up and moved his chair out of the way.

"Someone will explain to you outside but I need to take Dean into the OR right now."

And boy did that make Dean want to piss his pants, er, scrubs. He tried to resist when Castiel came around to his side and put a neck brace on him. "Hey, man, what's going on? Why do I need surgery?" Dean was terrified.

Castiel simply instructed him to lay back and move as little as possible, leaning the bed back to a laying position. He began pushing the bed out of the room, yelling at everyone to move out of the way as nurses joined his side.

He was barking out orders like a madman, before entering the OR room. When they entered, Castiel finally took the time to explain, "It seems that when you fell, your C3, one of the vertebrae you injured, was misplaced. The pressure it is putting on your trachea with cut off your air supply if we don't move it back into place. It's going to be a risky procedure but I'm going to do the best I can."

Dean wanted to cry. He didn't want to have another operation, and especially not because of the last one. And this one was also life threatening? Come on. Dean could also see the fear in Castiel's eyes, and that did little to calm him.

The room around him was chaos, everybody putting on surgical equipment and doing last minute checklists for items needed. It was made worse when a big, burly man burst into the room and pulled Castiel aside.

Dean strained to hear what was being said, but only caught snippets of the conversation. Something about emotional and dangerous. He could definitely hear it though when Castiel started shouting at the man.

"What do you mean I can't perform the surgery? He's my patient!" The other man urges Castiel to quiet down, telling him that it was unsafe for him to do it due to the high emotions from him.

That made Dean want to scream, he couldn't do this operation without Castiel. Yeah, they barely know each other, but he had saved his life before and made him chuckle at stupid jokes. He wanted Castiel to be the one to open Dean up if it was necessary.

Dean watched as Castiel slowly came off the edge of anger, his face returning to an emotionless state. Dean watched as Castiel walked calmly over to his bedside and grab a hold of his hand. "Dean, I can't do the procedure but I'll be here the entire time, okay? I promised.

Dean wanted to fight what he was being told, he wanted Castiel to do it! An IV was put into Dean's arm, and he could feel drugs rushing through his blood. Dean whispered, "No…" gripping Castiel's hand, feeling the drugs take effect.

That's when he saw them. Castiel's wings unfurled from his back and came to surround Dean. Dean reached up with one hand, surprised that he could feel the feathers. "Angel." He whispered, feeling a smile on his lips.

Castiel smiled down at him, squeezing his hand. "Be strong." He whispered back, before leaning down to press his lips to Deans. The touch was shocking to Dean, but Dean could feel himself slipping deeper into unconsciousness.

"Don't leave." He whispered again once Castiel pulled away. Dean barely heard his response, but it gave him hope.

"Never."


	4. Chapter 4

**CASTIEL POV**

Castiel was a nervous wreck the entire operation. He made some comments or remarks, but kept mostly to himself. His hand was still in Dean's, and he could feel him flex every time a feather would travel down the side of his arm.

He manipulated his wings so that Dean was surrounded completely, knowing no one else could see. He watched with mild interest as hands went through them, all at Dean's neck. He stroked Dean's arms and legs with his flight feathers, trying his best to keep Dean's body relaxed.

Having his wings out like this was against the rules, but Castiel knew the Order of Nephilim would understand. The first time he had seen Dean, he was so surprised his wings had a mind of their own.

He didn't even notice they had unfurled behind his back until Dean was staring at them. After that, he realized it was a lost cause to try and control them, so he let them be a comfort to the man on the bed.

Dean's hand, the one not in Castiel's, was rest on the sloping arch of his right wing. His fingers were light, barely a touch, but it sent chills and shivers through out Castiel. Although Dean was unconscious, Castiel could tell his wings had an effect on him. Every time Castiel tried to pull his wing out of Dean's hand, Dean's entire body would tense up.

It was a comfort to Castiel, knowing he was helping keep Dean relaxed. The surgical team had opened Dean up from the back, instead of the front like Castiel had done before. Castiel was watching them snip and move things back into place when his eyes focused on something else.

They were white tips, just barely peeking out from under the surgical blanket but they were enough to gain Castiel's attention. He made a mental note to check what they were later. Obviously they were scars, but Castiel didn't know of what variety.

The entire time, tensions were high in the room. Castiel knew he was putting pressure on the team to do their very best with Dean. He made a whimper noise every time they moved something slightly wrong. It was enough to set everyone on edge but Castiel knew he couldn't control it if he tried.

After what seemed like hours of work on Dean's limp body, the doctor sutured him back up and everyone began to pack. "Was it a success?" Castiel asked, his voice sound a few octaves higher than usual. "Did you move the vertebrae back into place? Is Dean going to be alright?"

The doctor doing the procedure held his hands up to shush Castiel, "Yes, everything went very well. Now, it's up to Dean. I recommend at least a week of bedrest, if not more." Castiel nodded along; he would have to tell Sam.

Their conversation earlier came rushing back to Castiel's mind.

" _So I read an interesting thing about the Nephilim and their wings."_

 _Castiel shifted nervously, hiding his shaking hands in the pockets of his lab coat._

 _"What's that?"_

 _"It seems like they only show their wings when they either find their True Mate or when someone is close to death."  
That made Castiel shift, how did Sam know that? What would he think? Castiel had surprised himself when he had felt that tug at the base of his wings five years ago. He knew it was to Dean, but he didn't know how to act on it. Or if he even could._

 _Before Castiel could reply, Sam held up his hands._

 _"Hey man, no big. I don't think Dean was dying then but if he was will you tell me?"_

 _Castiel shifted again. He could lie, but then what would Sam think of him?  
"No."_

 _"No?"_

 _"Dean was not dying when he came to me 5 years ago."_

 _"Oh."_

 _A silence stretched between them as Sam processed his words._

 _"So you and him…?"_

 _He trailed off. Castiel nodded, looking sheepishly up at the giant._

 _"Yes, we are True Mates. He does not know it though."  
Castiel thought that Sam would understand not to tell Dean._

 _"I won't tell him about you guys, but I'm going to tell him about the True Mates or death thing."_

 _Castiel nodded, knowing he couldn't stop Sam from saying at least that much._

 _"Can he see your wings all the time?"_

 _"No, my brother helped bind my wings in simple situations. Unless there was something immediately wrong or Dean was in danger, my wings would not come out unless called."  
Sam made a _hmm _ing noise._

 _"I saw a Nephilim when I was 15."_

 _Castiel watched Sam, expecting him to continue._

 _"I saw his wings; they were a sandy color. They were really pretty."_

 _Sam huffed a laugh to himself,_

 _"Never thought I'd call something pretty."_

 _Castiel's mind had gone into overdrive though. Sandy colored wings? He only knew of one person who had sandy colored wings. His brother._

 _Castiel recalls the conversation with his brother when he had met a human who could see his wings. The human was in a car crash, him and his dad. He wasn't near death though, so Gabriel knew that this man was his True Mate. He was only 18 then and had found his True Mate so quickly._

 _"Were you in a car crash?"  
Sam looked up._

 _"Yeah, how did you know?"_

 _"I know the Nephilim you saw."  
Castiel left it at that, figuring Sam would assume it was because he was close to death them. It would be Gabriel's job to tell Sam._

The conversation left Castiel feeling very confused. It didn't seem like Sam was upset about his and Dean's status. He wondered when Sam was going to tell Dean, if he hadn't already. Although, Dean didn't seem to know in the OR. Granted, he was under the influence of some pretty heavy duty drugs.

Castiel would find a way to breach the conversation with Dean later. For now, he needed to take Dean back to his room and update Sam. He wheeled an unconscious Dean through the corridors, keeping his wings out and in Dean's grip.

Once back in the room, he pulled his wings to his back and waited for Sam. He knew that if he wanted to he could show Sam his wings, since they were to be family. Sam must be curious, but then again Castiel wanted it to be Dean's secret.

Sam burst through the room after barely a minute of waiting, looking disheveled. He shot off a million questions at once, all of them involving Dean and the procedure. Castiel held his hand up to silence a worried Sam.

"Everything went well; they were able to fix the problem. The doctor who did the procedure recommended a week or two of bedrest to aid in Dean's recovery."

Sam cut him off, "Oh, Dean won't be happy about that. We'll have to close the shop for a few days too." He seemed overly worried, but Castiel tried to soothe him. "Dean will be fine, and the shop can open once Dean is feeling better."

Suddenly a though came to his mind, the scars he had seen. "I saw something on the top of Dean's back that I wanted to ask about." He reached over to wear Dean was laying and gently pushed him forward. Once Dean was in a comfortable enough position, Castiel began pulling up his shirt.

A hand stopped him though, and Castiel looked up at Sam, who was staring at Dean's back. "You might not want to do that." Castiel tilted his head and furrowed his brow. Why wasn't he allowed to know? They were True Mates! Although… Dean had not yet accepted the proposal, not that Castiel has put it out there yet.

"I'm just saying you might not like what you see." Castiel shook his head at Sam, "I'm sure whatever it is won't change my mind on how I feel about Dean." He continued his path on raising Dean's shirt until he saw what it was.

Raised scars that were thrown across the back. Scars that would have been formed by repeated whippings. _Oh Dean._ They littered Dean's back, crisscrossing and zigzagging everywhere. Castiel felt himself well up with sadness.

"Who has done this to you, my sweet." Castiel whispered into Dean's neck when he fell forward with grief. Sam sighed, running a worried hand through his hair. "Dean was in a pretty abusive relationship a few years back…" He trailed off, not able to continue.

Castiel wanted to cry, somebody had hurt his True Mate in ways even Castiel couldn't imagine. Slowly, he traced each scar with the tips of his fingers, careful not to press too hard. They made a scarily beautiful pattern across Dean's back.

He was not angry at Dean for this, how could he be? It wasn't his fault the person he was with was so abusive. If he was given the chance at a relationship, though, he would try to make up for every lash Dean had received.

Castiel carefully laid Dean back down, stroking his face and arms with his wing. His beautiful man has been broken by someone else. His head fell into his hands as he willed himself not to cry.

Sam watched Castiel with sad eyes, as he was making soft whimpering noises. He knew how pathetic he must look, weeping over his True Mate's broken body, but he couldn't bring himself to care.

"Who was it." He said suddenly, surprising Sam with his ferocity. He wanted to know who had harmed Dean in this way. Castiel watched Dean breathe, tracing his cheekbones with a wing while waiting for Sam to respond.

"His name was Alistair." Sam replied, his voice strong and void of any sadness. He was just as angry, Castiel realized. It must have been hard for him, to see Dean come home with such deep wounds in his back.

Castiel looked up at Sam, staring at him. "I will find him, and I will make him pay for what he did to Dean." He promised. Sam gave a small smile and nodded, encouraging him. "Okay, man." Sam's response was barely above a whisper but it was enough to egg Castiel on.

A sudden shift of bedding made both of them whip around to watch Dean. He was beginning to stir, mumbling in his sleep. Sam was at his bedside immediately, pushing back the damp hair from his forehead.

Castiel stood, coming next to Sam and waiting for Dean to open his beautiful eyes. Slowly but surely, Dean came to. He flexed his fingers, finding them still wrapped around Castiel's wing, and opened his eyes to look at what he was holding.

Castiel beamed at Dean when his eyes were turned onto him, and he watched as Dean's eyes roam over his face. Next, Dean turned to Sam and did the same thing. "What's with the staring?" Dean asked, his voice hoarse from disuse.

Sam chuckled and looked away, "Just worried about you, jerk." "Bitch" Dean threw back, smiling a little at the familiarity. Dean's eyes turned back to the wing in his hand and he fingered at a dark blue feather.

"So, wings huh?"

Sam's eyes widened at that, "You have your wings out right now?" Castiel looked over to see Sam trying to find any sign of them behind Castiel. He chuckled to himself, "Yes, Sam." Dean watched the exchange before butting in, "Wait, so Sam can't see them?"

Castiel shook his head at Dean. He could see Dean pause a moment, thinking things over before he said, "Could you show him?" Sam tried to interject, stating it was none of his business when Castiel cut him off.

"If that is what you wish." Dean beamed up at Castiel and nodded enthusiastically. Castiel sighed inwardly, at having to expose the secret and how beautiful Dean looked. "You may have to step back a few feet, Sam." He warned, preparing himself to bring them forward.

After Sam was far enough away that Castiel's wing wouldn't body slam him, he pulled them forward. Sam gasped in awe at the size of them. Dean smiled at Sam and watched his expression.

He fingered another feather, stroking the long spine before saying, "Beautiful, ain't it?" Sam nodded his response, his words having left him. Castiel felt himself blush at the praise and shook his wings a little.

Dean grabbed onto the end of the wing and squeezed, smiling up at him. Castiel smiled sweetly back at him, going to stroke his face again before realizing Sam could still see them. He pulled the wings back, so that even Dean couldn't see them.

The action made Dean frown, and he dropped the hand that was previously gripping the wing. His eyes dropped to his hands as well, watching himself soothe out the blanket. Sam cleared his throat before saying, "Looks like you're gonna have some time off."

Dean groaned at that, looking up to catch Sam's eyes. "Really? How long?" Dean sounded like a child whose toy had just been taken away. Castiel took it as his cue to leave, letting Sam explain a few things.

Before he left, he grabbed Dean's hand and squeeze lightly, before letting it fall out of his own. He walked out the room and leaned against the wall, heaving in a deep breath. He was not prepared for his conversation with Dean.


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey guy's this starts off as Dean's POV! Remember to follow my tumblr AngelRahmiel Love you all 3 Ciao.**

After a (very) long nap, Dean was feeling better. His neck was still sore, and his back was tight, but overall he was happier. Castiel checked in on him often, but never staying too long. Sam and Dean had a long conversation, talking about Jess and basically just catching up.

Every time Castiel would poke his head through the door and see Sam, his eyes would widen and he walked more carefully. And every time, Sam would look up at him and shake his head. Dean didn't know what it meant and he was staring to get impatient.

The fifth time this happened, Dean lost it. "Okay is there some inside joke that I'm not in on?" Sam's head turned towards Dean and Castiel cocked his own to the side. Sam, obviously understanding better than Castiel, said, "No, why would you think that?"

Dean huffed, "Well, it's just that every time Cas comes in, y'all make eye contact and do some weird jig thing. Is there something you aren't telling me?" Cas went stock still at Dean's words, barely looking up from his feet.

No one answered for quite some time, the silence slowly getting more and more tense. Dean couldn't take it, gathering up his blanket and the IV bag. "You know what, fine. Have your little slumber party, I'm out of here."

Immediately Castiel was in front of him, arms already ready to catch an unstable Dean. "Dean wait." "No Cas, I'm sick of getting treated like I'm not here." He tried to make his way to the door, but Castiel kept blocking him.

"It was only a few looks, Dean." Sam said, standing up to try and help stop Dean from leaving. "A few looks can go a long way." Dean spat back. Castiel sighed, one hand coming up to rest on Dean's face.

He jerked away from the touch, throwing up a hand, "And you. You've been hiding your wings from me." He accused, sounding more like a toddler whose toy got taken away. He tried to step back from Castiel, only to step into Sam.

Sam gently pushed him over to the bed and helped him onto it. By that time, Dean was breathing hard from anger and exertion. He leaned back on the bed, trying to catch his breath. _Everything hurt._

"I owe you an explanation." Castiel said, placing a hand on Dean's knee. He looked up at Sam and nodded. Sam nodded back and turned to Dean. "We have some things to tell you." And that never sounds good.

Castiel got himself a chair while Sam pulled the one he was sitting on closer to the bed. Sam looked at Castiel once he was situated and said, "Do you want to start or shall I?" Cas gave a simple gesture and leaned forward to reach for Dean's hand.

Dean pulled his hand back, hiding it beneath him. Castiel looked at him with sad eyes before staring at his own hands in his lap. Dean turned his attention back to Sam, and waited for him to start talking.

"I found what the people with wings are; they are called the Nephilim." Sam paused, waiting for a reaction from Dean. Dean looked back and forth between Sam and Castiel, realizing Sam was talking about Castiel.

With no response, Sam continued, "They rarely show their wings, only for three occasions. The first is when they want to, like Castiel did for me. The second is when a person was dying, like that Nephilim did for me." At that, Dean saw Castiel look up and start to cut him off but decide better of it.

Not seeing it, however, Sam went on, "The third is when the Nephilim has found a True Mate. It's our equivalent of a soul mate." Sam stopped, watching Dean closely. Dean couldn't process the information though, and said, "So I was dying both times I was going into surgery?"

That's when Castiel spoke up, "No, Dean, you were not dying." That confused Dean even more though, and he responded with, "So you just showed them because you wanted to?" Castiel looked wounded, but shook his head again.

"We are True Mates, Dean." He put out. Dean was silent for a long time, watching Castiel. It almost looked like Castiel was given a puppy only to have it taken away from him right away. He looked completely heartbroken, but Dean couldn't understand why.

"I don't understand." He confessed out loud, looking at Sam. Castiel only grumbled, "I told you he would reject me." And all but ran out of the room. Sam was looking after Castiel, wanting to go say something to him.

"You and him are soul mates, idiot." He said, turning back to Dean. He waited for a reply, staring at Dean. Dean couldn't speak though, still trying to process what that means. _Soul mates?_ That's impossible.

"But he's a Nephilim thing. How could we possibly be soul mates?" Dean was at a loss. "Look I don't know, but you have to go apologize to him. He thinks you just rejected him as a soul mate."

"But-". "Now, Dean."

MEANWHILE

Castiel was hiding in his office, all but weeping from the tragedy. How could Dean not love him? They were True Mates! He didn't understand, and he knew that if a True Mate rejected a Nephilim, they were cursed to be alone forever. He didn't want that. He wanted to go in there and force Dean to see an upside to this, but he knew Dean had to make the decision on his own.

A thought came to his mind. Sam thinks that the Nephilim he saw was only there because he was dying, but it's not true. Gabriel had told him countless of times of the human who was his True Mate. And he was the only one with sandy colored wings, so it must be him.

He sent a quick call to Gabriel, asking him to come down as soon as possible. Within a second, Gabriel was standing in front of him. At the sight of his brother, he collapsed into tears. Immediately, Gabriel came to his aid and wiped at his face.

"What's wrong, little bro?" He said, rubbing a wing against Castiel's. The touch was comforting but not enough to console him completely. Castiel sobbed quietly into his shoulder, allowing his brother to hold his weight.

"M- my True Mate has re- rejected me..." Castiel said, in between sobs. Gabriel's face changed from sadness to horror. He had once felt that, not an outright rejection but he knew. It was rare among their kind, but he knew it could happen.

"Where is he? Do you want me to beat him up?" Gabriel asked. Castiel snuffled and rubbed at his nose. He shook his head, "No, he's still my True Mate either way."

Suddenly, Castiel completely switched topics, standing up straighter and looking at Gabriel, "By the way, your True Mate is my True Mate's brother." "What?" Gabriel was perplexed, he had never heard of this happening.

He swiveled his head towards the door, and started to make his way over, "Where is he?" "Wait, Gabriel." Castiel grabbed his arm and pulled him back. "He doesn't know. Did you even tell him?" At that, Gabriel looked down at his feet and pulled licorice from his pocket.

"No…" He said, taking a bite from the stick. Castiel wanted to hit his face against the wall. "How could you not tell him?" He almost screamed, barely holding himself back. Gabriel's head shot up and he narrowed his eyes at Castiel, "You didn't tell your True Mate when you met him!"

"That's different! I was his doctor and he was going into surgery!" "Not much different than my situation!" Gabriel countered. Both men crossed their arms to glare at each other. Seeing as how they both weren't going in, Gabriel gave in and gestured to the door.

"Well, should we go see them then?" Castiel's body language changed back into a scared child. He looked down at his hands and his lower lip stuck out. Gabriel had none of it, "Oh don't give me that, you're the one that's supposed to be the 'Master' of him or whatever you kinky kids call it these days."

Castiel's cheeks heated up and he went to correct Gabriel, but was cut off by a finger to the mouth. He went silent and watched as Gabriel did a little head nod towards the door. Castiel heaved a sigh and walked silently next to Gabriel as they exited the door.

Reaching Dean's door, Gabriel pushed it open, making as grand of entrance as ever. "HELLO!" He shouted, his arms making a wide arc. He went to step in more but was stopped by a giant.

Sam was staring at him with wide eyes. He had his hand on Gabriel's chest, stopping him from moving forward. His voice barely above a whisper, "You." Gabriel's smile faltered, but only slightly, before he lowered his voice and said, "Hello, Samuel."

Dean watched the exchange with a confused look, "Wait, you two know each other?" Sam turned to Dean and pointed back at Gabriel. "This is the Nephilim I saw that night, you remember, the one that appeared because I was dying?"

Gabriel's face twisted into confusion, "You weren't dying that night." That made Sam look back at him, "Yeah, I was. Why else would your wings have appeared?" Dean cut him off with a, "Same reason Castiel's wings appeared for me, maybe?"

Now it was Sam's turn to go silent. He looked very confused, staring at Gabriel as if trying to solve a puzzle. "Wait, so you and I…?" His mouth closed again as he tried to figure out what was going on.

Gabriel seized the chance, and said, "So now that we're all family here, whatcha wanna talking about?" He cupped his hands around his face and batted his eyelashes at Sam and Dean. They both looked like a fish, mouth repeatedly opening and closing. Castiel shook his head at the exchange and walked out.


	6. Chapter 6

**Hey gals, pals, etc. I'm working on chapter 9 right now but I'm uploading this a little slow so you don't have to wait as long. Hopefully, chapters will be coming out every other week or so for EACH of the fanfictions I'm writing. Can't promise anything but I do believe it's something I can achieve. Anyway, enjoy chapter 6 in Dean's POV.**

Dean couldn't understand what the man in front of them was saying. Something about Sam, and based on Sam's face it was very surprising. He stopped them, "Wait, wait, what are we saying."Gabriel sighed and lowered his head a little. After a moment, he raised his head again, "Dean-o I thought you could keep up. You know how you and my baby brother Castiel are True Mates?" At Dean's nod, he continued, "Sammy and I are True Mates."

What.

 _ **Wait.**_

Sam and this guy are True Mates? So this guy was the same thing that Castiel was, a Nephilim. That brought a thought to Dean's mind, "Wait, if you are a Nephilim or whatever, why don't you have wings."It was Sam's turn to sigh and he turned to look at his brother. "He does have wings; you just can't see them right now." "Wait, so you can see them?" Dean was very confused.

"Yes, of course Sam can see my wings. And will you stop saying 'wait' every few seconds?" Gabriel seemed a bit impatient. "Anyway, so you and Castiel are to be together and Sam and I are to be together, do we have that cleared up?"

Dean was silent for a moment. On one hand, he didn't know if he could trust what this man was saying. But on the other, it seemed like Sam did. He had this soft look on his face and just a hint of a smile. It was weird to see Sam like this; Dean's only seen this look towards Jess.

"Uhhh, okay." Dean said, still a little unsure but willing to give Gabriel a chance. His answer caused Gabriel to beam and shout, "Alright! Okay, I'll get Cassie back in here so we can make arrangements."

"Wait, what arrangements?" Dean still hadn't gotten over Sam and Gabriel, much less him and Castiel. "For you to move in with us. And I thought I told you to stop saying wait." Gabriel then closed his eyes and murmured words, even though he didn't speak.

Within seconds, Castiel stood in the doorway. He didn't come in, though, looking like a shy high schooler at a school dance. That thought made Dean huff a laugh to himself. Sam looked at him sideways, as if to judge his reaction to all this.

Dean kept his face straight though, not wanting to portray any emotion that might give away how he was feeling. He watched Castiel slowly enter the room, coming to stand next to Gabriel. With a wave of Gabriel's hand, two chairs appeared beside Dean's bed.

Sam blinked, and looked at Dean then back at Gabriel. "How…" Gabriel only smiled and patted Sam's cheek, "Don't worry, I have a lot to show you." Dean was completely speechless. He didn't know how the chairs just appeared but honestly, he was more interested in Castiel's reaction to this.

"Hey, Cas." Dean called out. Once Castiel's eyes were on Dean, he reached over to pat the closest chair to him. Castiel's lips pulled up just slightly to show a shy smile at Dean, something Dean suspects he won't see often.

"Alright," Gabriel clapped his hands together, coming over to sit in the one next to Sam. Gabriel continued talking, "Nephilim have a rule that any non-Nephilim Mates must live with the Nephilim. Both Castiel and I have prepared nests for this moment, since we are both the dominants of the relationship."

Wait, so Dean had to move in with Castiel? But he liked his place… It seemed as though Castiel read Dean's mind, because he placed a hand over Dean's. Once Dean was looking at him, he spoke, "I want to take care of you, Dean. I need to." Castiel seemed so sure of that thought, Dean didn't even bother fighting with him.

"So, we gotta live with you guys." Gabriel tore his eyes off of Sam's face to focus on Dean. "Yes, you 'gotta' live with us, it is the rule of the Nephilim." It was Sam's turn to speak, "So, what are these nests like?"

Castiel piped up at this moment, "Each Nephilim has prepared a different nest. However, I can tell you mine is in the form of a mansion. Each room has a purpose, and there are many spare rooms to be made into nests for when you and Gabriel visit."

A mansion, Dean was going to live in a mansion. He didn't know why he was okay with moving in a guy he just found out was his true love or whatever, but he was. He began imagining what the rooms would look like. Castiel drew him out of his day dream with a touch of his hand.

"Dean, our room is very large. I do not wish to explain what it looks like to Sam or Gabriel at this moment, but I think you will be very comfortable. Please do not worry, if there is something you do not like, we can change it." The thought was comforting to Dean; he didn't want to hurt Castiel's feelings though.

"Thank you, Cas." Dean smiled down at Castiel, his eyes crinkling in the corners. Gabriel cleared his throat, "While this is all very sweet, I must interrupt." Dean looked back at Gabriel, then to Sam who was being very silent.

Dean saw that Sam seemed to be… stroking… something. It must have been Gabriel's wing. He looked completely in awe at what was in his hand, so Dean decided not to interrupt whatever he was doing.


	7. Chapter 7

**Hey everyone, this chapter is kind of heavy - trigger warnings include dubcon, flashbacks, just overall bad things. Be careful! Love you all, Ciao.**

 _Shit._

 _Shitshitshitshitshit._

 _FUCK._

Dean withdrew his hand from Castiel's wing and placed both of them in his lap. He stared down at his hands waiting for a reaction.

 _Fuck, this can't be happening right now._

After a few moments, he felt Castiel's gaze on him. "Dean?" He grunted in reply. "Is something the matter?" Dean remained quiet, eyes focused on his hands.

Sam noticed Castiel's shift in mood and looked over to Dean. Suddenly all eyes were on him, two Nephilim and one brother. He couldn't handle what was happening right now. He wouldn't.

"Get out." His voice barely above a whisper. Immediately Sam stood up and tried to draw Castiel away from the side of the bed. He knew what was about to happen.

"Dean, what? I can't hear you." Castiel pleaded, trying desperately to make Dean look at him. He couldn't do it.

"Get out. Get out! GET OUT." Dean's voice raised to a shout, and he picked up the nearest thing to him, which happened to be a vase of flowers, and chucked it at the door. He saw Gabriel and Sam duck, feeling guilty for what was happening. He had no control though, he would apologize later.

"Castiel," Sam said, his voice soft. Dean knew he was giving him the puppy dog eyes. After a few moments of silence, Castiel huffed and left Dean's bedside.

Once the door was shut, and he heard the lock click into place, Dean broke out into tears. Within a second, Sam was back at his side, running hands down his arms. This had happened too many times before. Sam knew how to deal.

"What?" Sam asked, almost afraid of the answer. Dean was frozen though, couldn't answer even if he wanted to. Even the name was haunting to him, he wouldn't dare say it out loud. He sobbed into his brother's shoulder.

Everything hurt, his scars, his not-so-healed scars, his head. He couldn't deal, so he dumped it all on Sam. He couldn't breathe, nothing he did was working. No coping skills, no bullshit his therapist tried to teach him. It all was for nothing.

Finally, after long moments of sobbing quietly, he whispered the name. Sam knew it was coming, and strained to hear what Dean was going to say. Who would it be this time?

 _"Alistair."_

Sam let out a sad sigh, he knew it had something to do with the job. Why did it have to be him though?

**************FLASHBACK**************

Alistair was cruel to Dean, made him wear things he didn't want to, made him dance like a stripper, even whipped him. He was the worst client Dean has ever had, yet he was the best paying one so Dean always went back.

It was raining that night, softly, like little steps along the roof. It was almost deafening in Alistair's studio apartment though. Everything echoed, every whip, every scream, every slap of skin on skin.

And nobody came to help, nobody every would, because they knew Alistair was bad news. And you don't mess with the Big Bad upstairs. Nobody came to Dean's rescue tonight, as usual.

Alistair had a rough day it seems like, because immediately he was throwing out orders for Dean to do. Dean kept quiet, and rushed off to do them, fearful of what might happen should he mess up.

Today, Dean was dressed in a maid's costume. Not a man-maid, but a lady-maid, complete with stockings and a thong. It disgusted Dean, some of Alistair's fantasies, but at least this one wasn't as bad.

He tripped around in his high heels, rushing to get out a cold beer and nuke a pizza in the oven. He wasn't quick enough though, it seems, because as soon as he was at Alistair's side, the beer disappeared from his hand.

He heard a crash, like glass breaking, and turned toward the noise. He was confronted with a jagged glass bottle coming into contact with his face. Pain danced everywhere, down to his toes and throughout his fingertips.

His body was on fire with white-hot pain. He kept his mouth shut though, knowing Alistair would whip him if he left out a whimper. His eyes squeezed shut, blocking out the blood that was dripping across them.

Blood was everywhere, he could feel it staining his outfit, pooling on the floor around him. He knew he would pass out soon, from fear or lack of blood, he didn't know which. He just stayed as still as possible, not wanting anymore backlash from the man above him.

The sound of the whip, a loud CRACK, startled Dean into looking up at Alistair. The man was menacing, lighting shining behind him, darkening his features. He looked like the Angel of Death, and for some reason, Dean welcomed him willingly.

The loud snap of the whip and a stinging slash across his back confirmed his fears that he would be whipped tonight. Oh, Sammy, how was he going to explain this? Dean withstood as much as he could, before the pain became too much and he passed out.

The blackness that surrounded him was a comfort, and he calmed over the thought of not having to see or feel what Alistair was doing to him right now. Most likely he would get a few more whips in and then drop his pants.

God, he didn't want to be raped tonight. Technically it wasn't rape though, since Dean had consented to a Dominant/submissive relationship with him. He knew Alistair was rough, but had no idea how bad it would be.

He missed his mom, missed his dad even. He knew they would be here frowning down at him for his life choices though. How else would he pay for Sammy? The tattoo shop wasn't nearly enough to put the squirt through high school or college. He had to take on these types of jobs, they paid very well.

And even though he was being abused almost nightly, at least Sam would never have to sell his body for his education. Dean would never let Sam do anything like that.

Oh God.

The blackness started to fade out, into white. His hearing came back first, and what he heard made him sick. It was the sound of skin on skin. Feeling came back next. He could feel himself being drilled into by the man above him. Everything hurt. How he hated this part. Then smell, the awful stench of Alistair's apartment, his cigars lying around.

Last to come back was sight, but Dean wouldn't even move his eyes once he could see. He kept staring at a piece of glass on the ground, sitting almost directly in front of him. He focused mainly on that, trying to block out what was being done to him.

It was butterfly shaped… How perfectly that shard of glass was broken to have such distinctive wings. The beer on the piece made bright colors through the glass and light. It seemed so simple, so mystical. How did it end up here, with him?

Suddenly, everything stopped. His ass felt far too wet for his comfort, and the sound of a zipper confirmed that Alistair was done with him for now. Seven twenties were tossed down next to Dean's head.

"That'll be all, miss, if you could take your shit and get the fuck out." Alistair drawled out. Dean lifted himself off the floor, not bothering to dust all the glass shards off his skin and dress. He stooped to grab the twenties, and take off his heels.

He walked, unsteadily, across the broken glass and made his way out the door. Before he could close it though, and be done with this night, he heard, "Call ya when I need ya." Shouted at him from inside.

He decided not to comment, shutting the door and leaning against it. His vision blacked out again, and he threw himself onto his hands and knees. He crawled his way towards the plotted plant, knowing its exact location from previous experience.

Without a thought, Dean emptied his stomach into the base of the plant, gagging from the still rich cigar smell. He would smell like this for days. He had to get out of here.

Slowly, Dean dragged himself to his feet and stumbled down to the main floor. A taxi, waiting for him as usual, opened the door and ushered him in.

The taxi man had no idea that Dean was a bloody mess. He couldn't see the maid outfit, or the vomit on the skirt, or the come left over on the stockings. No one could see it. He was alone in this.

He knew he would be dropped off at the apartment soon. Once the taxi came to a stop, Dean stumbled out, not even trying to hold himself up. He unlocked the door with shaky hands, the rain making it that much harder.

The door finally pushed open, and he made his way upstairs. He collapsed in his kitchen, reaching for the booze that would put him into a coma. He could never get to it though; it was always too far away.

He felt himself being shook, heard his name above his head. He ignored it in favor for slipping into his comfort area. His own little safe space that no one could invade. His body was slack in the hands, his mouth hanging open. He knew he must truly be an awful sight…

He was being shook, but this time the clothes on him felt different. He didn't feel any blood or stale beer on him, couldn't feel the itch of the outfit. He refocused his eyes onto Sam, who was standing above him with tears in his eyes.

"Dean, thank god, I thought you would blank out on me again."

Oh right, he was in the hospital. With his brother, and Castiel, and Gabriel. Shit.

"Cas…" Dean grounded out, reaching his hands towards the door. Castiel could always comfort him, his wings were a big part of that but he guessed it was also their connection. He barely paid attention to Sam standing up and hurrying to get the door unlocked.

Immediately, Castiel was at his side, grabbing his face and making soft cooing sounds. Dean weakly lifted one hand up, finding purpose on a dark blue wing. He let his fingers card through the many feathers.

No words were spoken, as Castiel let his wings completely in case Dean's body, touching him from head to toe. There was no way he knew what had just happened, but Dean could tell he was terrified. Maybe of him.

It wasn't his fault…

It wasn't his fault Alistair kept calling him back. Nor was it his fault that he had a break down because he had been whipped. The last time he had been whipped, other than that night, was almost a year ago.

Alistair had been more conservative with the whip, only bringing it out as a scar tactic. That night though, he was whipped so harshly, Dean could barely function.

Nothing had even happened, Alistair just walked in a let loose on Dean. After a few rounds with the whip, he spat on him and went to take a shower. That was a week ago. Sam didn't know, he had been out of town visiting Jess.

Dean could still feel the marks on his back, and he let Castiel run his fingers all over him. It hurt like hell, but he knew Castiel would find out eventually. No way would this man want Dean as a soul mate.

The thought made Dean tear up, and he whispered, "I'm sorry." into the man's lab coat. Castiel's grip tightened around Dean, still being mindful of the back. He knew he must look pathetic to the Nephilim in front of him.

They sat there for what seemed like hours. It was probably only a few minutes however. Dean could feel himself wilt, and was growing extremely tired. He gripped onto Castiel for as long as possible until blackness took him.

For all he knew, Castiel wouldn't be there when he woke up, and he wanted to savor their last few moments together. Finally, not being able to hold himself up any longer, Dean slumped against Castiel, falling into a deep slumber.

CASTIEL POV

Castiel was furious with this man named Alistair and terrified for his Dean. Obviously Dean had been traumatized enough to have PTSD. At least, that's what Castiel could come up with, at the moment he wasn't really thinking straight.

Dean had just relaxed against him, his mouth hanging open slightly. He hated using his Grace to put Dean to sleep, but he could tell the rest was much needed. He laid Dean's head down gently on the pillow.

Once Dean looked comfortable enough, he rose and went outside to a waiting Sam and Gabriel. He knew Gabriel would have questions, but right now he had one thing on his mind.

"Tell me everything you know about Alistair." His question was directed at Sam, and he could see the man shift his footing. He waited for Sam to gather his stories and fats together. He knew that this was the man that had hurt Dean.

He also knew it was unacceptable to torture a True Mate of a Nephilim, and could be (in some cases) be punished by death or being locked up. He hoped for the former, not wanting this vile man to be in the world any longer.

Once he could see Sam was ready, he calmed his thoughts and listened carefully.

 **(REMEMBER TO FOLLOW MY TUMBLR AngelRahmiel FOR UPDATES AND SHIT)**


	8. Chapter 8

**Yo, I'm sorry about this... Also, I didn't update because I was binging Shameless and NCIS. So yeah. Ciao.**

"Dean got mixed in with the wrong crowd a few years back. Dad was a deadbeat and Dean had to take care of me. He tried getting two or three jobs at a time but it was never enough for apartment rent or grocery money. He started disappearing at night and would turn up early morning covered in blood and reeking of alcohol."

"So what does this have to do with Alistair?" Castiel tried cutting in, not getting the picture quite yet. Sam heaved a sigh and said, "I'm getting there."

"I later found out that Dean was selling his body to certain individuals that were willing to pay. Some were nice enough, only wanting a relationship and not something violent. Alistair, however, had Dean under his toe. Alistair paid too much for Dean to just let him go. He practically paid for Dean and I to have a house.

"At first he wasn't that bad, Dean would come home a few times with a scratch or maybe a bruise. But then it started getting worse. Dean would come home absolutely plastered out of his mind. He would mumble something about Alistair feeding his drinks and showing him off.

"It was awful, seeing him like that, he always said he could handle it but he would get worse every single time. Then one time he came back with slashes on his back. His shirt was torn apart and he was bleeding. I tried asking what Alistair was doing to him one time but Dean just blew me off.

"Dean tried ending things with Alistair but he didn't like that. Alistair kidnapped Dean one time and held him as a sex slave for a week. I got a letter from him telling me not to go to the cops or Dean would be dead. I kept quiet, waiting for Dean to come home while trying to maintain a normal life.

"After a week, Dean was left out on the front yard late at night. I found him when I woke up the next morning, I didn't know how long he had been out so I helped him into the car and drove him here.

"That's when you met him."

Castiel could feel his blood boiling. To think that his mate was treated in such a disgusting and disrespectful way. He wanted to kill this man. It knocked the breath out of him, he never knew that he could feel this way. His body ached to hold the broken man in the room next to him.

"So that's why he has the scars?" Castiel's voice was deep, dripping with anger. Sam nodded, staring at his feet. Castiel could feel the sadness radiating off of Sam. He glanced at Gabriel out of the side of his eye. His face was distorted in sadness for his mate but he knew that Sam would not allow any contact between them.

"How many times has Dean been with Alistair?" Castiel asked in a quiet voice. Sam bit his lip for a moment, thinking over the question. "Years." That one word was enough for Castiel to turn away and almost punch a hole through the wall. Years. Dean has been with this… thing for years.

No wonder Dean had so many scars. This man had abused Dean for so long, Dean's back was littered with scars and open wounds. When was the last time? Dean had been taken advantage of for years, how is he going to react with Castiel? He must be given time, Castiel assumed, to give Dean the chance to be okay with him.

"When was the last time?" Castiel asked, gaining a little bit more confidence. He turned back to Sam and Gabriel, catching both of their eyes and quickly looking away. His eyes settled onto Dean's door. "I don't know, I thought that night was the last but I don't know for sure."

Castiel's eyes shifted to Sam and he cocked his head. "Years ago? Are you sure?" "I mean pretty sure; I haven't seen any more blood or anything from him." Castiel knew Sam was telling the truth, but there were fresh lashes against Dean's skin. He had been to Alistair's recently.

Caught up in his own thoughts, he didn't notice an alarm was blaring through the hallways. He did, however notice that nurses and doctors were pouring into Dean's room. He stood still, watching what seemed like a bajillion people rush through the door.

It took his brain a minute to process what was going on before he broke out into a full sprint toward the room. He pushed through the door, shock stopping his body in place. What he saw made his heart clench and his Grace quiver. Dean was laying still on the bed, hospital gown thrown up, his chest exposed. A doctor pressed the shock paddles to bare chest and Castiel watched in horror as Dean's body spasm's off the bed.

A broken sob fell from Castiel's open mouth as his eyes moved over to the heart monitor screen. "Still nothing, charge to 300." The doctor's voice rang out, pounding against his ears. His body began to shake as he watched the shocking process happen once again.

"Dean?" The name fell softly from Castiel's lips before he could stop it. The small voice he used reminded him of a child asking for forgiveness after being scolded. That's how he felt. His heart was breaking as he watched the doctors and nurses pack up. "Time of death, 23:18."

With that sentence, his heart shattered completely. Dean was dead. His True Mate was dead, so soon after meeting him. This couldn't be happening. Castiel fell to his knees, his hands clenched against his chest. Everything was aching in his body, clenching down on the emptiness she felt.

He could feel Gabriel's presence join him in the room. He could feel Gabriel suck in a breath through his teeth as he took in Dean's limp body on the bed. He could feel Gabriel kneel down next to him and wrap an arm around his shoulders. "Go to him, brother."

Castiel stumbled to his feet, pushing himself up from his limp knees. He slowly stepped towards Dean, watching his chest and hoping for a sign of life. There was nothing to show that Dean was there anymore, and with the last few steps he threw his body over Dean's.

A sob broke the silence that surrounded him. Castiel could feel his wings unfurl from his back and wrap Dean's still warm body. Picking Dean up with his wings, Castiel cradled the lifeless body in front of him. He covered them both with his massive wings, hiding them from the world.

"Dean." Castiel continued to sob into Dean's shoulder, his head buried deeply into the soft skin. It felt like hours that Castiel held him, stroking his arms with gentle fingers and his body with his soft wings. The world felt like it was coming down on Castiel, and he found that he could hardly breathe.

Gasping breaths that were muffled by skin filled the silence. After he had stopped crying, only soft little breaths leaving his mouth, Gabriel approached him. A gentle handle landed on the joint of his wing. A tugging came from the hand, urging Castiel to let go of Dean. Castiel only shrugged the hand off, curling closer to Dean's body.

"I can't leave him." Castiel whispered, not sure if Gabriel actually heard him. A soft sigh that came from above him warned him that yes – Gabriel had indeed heard him. Quiet footsteps moved away from Castiel, before a door was shut. Castiel heaved a deep sigh, glad to have finally been left alone.

Castiel kept his eyes closed, breathing in the scent of Dean's skin, knowing that this would be the last time he could do this. His body couldn't handle the shock of surgery, Castiel belatedly realized. After Alistair's constant torture, it was no wonder that Dean couldn't handle being cut into and then shocked multiple times.

A soft beeping sound made Castiel raised his head, and he looked with tired eyes at the heart monitor. em style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"Beep. Beep. Beep. /emIt was working again, Castiel thought. But that was impossible, Dean was dead. Castiel looked down at Dean's face to find him still peaceful looking.

A stroking through his wings made Castiel jump, and his head swiveled where he found a hand slowly stroking the feathers. Dean's hand. Castiel's own hand came up to clench the foreign hand in his wing. The fingers closed around Castiel's own and he was squeezed gently.

Dean.

Castiel's eyes shifted to Dean's, and he was surprised to find green eyes watching him lazily. His own free hand came to frame Dean's face. A smile formed on his own face, matching that of Dean's. "You're alive." Castiel whispered, as he brought his face closer to Dean's.

"Well that's what happens when you get jump-started by a Nephilim's Grace." Dean's voice was rough and scratchy. "My Grace brought you back?" Castiel asked, his voice as small as the kid he always thought of.

"That's what the Big Man upstairs said." Dean answered back in a joking matter. Castiel cocked his head, curious as to what Dean meant. He ruffled his feathers, settling them back down against Dean's body. Fingers continued their path up and down Dean's arms as Castiel said, "Who is the Big Man you speak of?"

"God." Dean said nonchalantly. Castiel felt his own eyes widen as he stared into Dean's beautiful, green ones. "What?" Castiel squeaked, his voice quiet and high. Dean held Castiel's eyes as he thought over what to say. "He told me that I wasn't ready to die, that I still had work to do. With you." Dean spoke, his voice strong and confident.

It was unbelievable. Dean talked to God, God brought him back. How was this possible? Castiel knew God existed – how else would he exist? But he never thought that He would be interested in Castiel's boring life.

"Okay." Castiel didn't know what else to say. What exactly do you say to that? Castiel sighed softly, burrowing his head back into Dean's warm skin. He screamed a message excitedly at Gabriel – "DEAN WINCHESTER IS ALIVE." – an exuberant reply was sent quickly after. Castiel was sure that Gabriel was telling the good news to Samuel.

"Rest." Castiel said, his voice firm and much more confident. Castiel stroked his fingers down Dean's chest and he felt it rise and fall with deep breaths. He closed his own eyes and melted deeper into Dean's body. Sighing contentedly, Castiel felt himself fall into a restful sleep against Dean.


	9. Chapter 9

Dean woke up two days later, groggy and confused. He tried to sit up but found his body uncooperative and sluggish. Groaning loudly, Dean looked around the room and found Sam slumped in a chair, snoring soundly. His body ached with a familiar soreness when he tried to flex his fingers.

What happened? The last thing Dean remembered was freaking out over Alistair. Oh no, this wasn't good, had Castiel seen him like that? Now Castiel most definitely would not want to be mated with him. His heart hurt at the thought that Castiel would leave him.

Dean glanced around the room again, eyes trying to focus on his surroundings. The heart monitor was beeping softly in the background, trying to lure Dean back into sleep. He fought the feeling, wiggling his toes a little. It was hard to move his neck, it being in a neck brace and all. He felt confined and to be honest, a little claustrophobic.

He tried to speak, only a strange gurgling noise coming from his mouth instead of words. It was enough to startle Sam awake, who was snoring softly in the chair next to him. "Dean." Sam said, sounding tired but relieved. The giant stood up from his chair and went to the side of the hospital bed. Dean looked up at him, feeling like a child suddenly. Opening his mouth, he tried to speak again.

"Shaammeyyy" It was an awkward sound, and it killed Dean's throat to speak. Dean looked down at his nose, trying to see his neck brace, before looking back up at his brother with scared eyes. He went to open his mouth but Sam's hand on his cheek stopped him, "Don't try to speak, Castiel said that it would be a little bit until you could." Dean's eyes lit up at the mention of Castiel, and he lifted a hand to try to motion to the door.

Wait. Castiel was going to hate him, especially since he was so broken and scarred. Lowering his hand sadly, Dean looked at his wiggling toes and held back tears. His throat closed up at the attempt to stave them off. With that, he was feeling even more claustrophobic than before. Both hands came to clutch at his neck brace, and he looked up at Sammy with scared eyes.

"ufff" Dean squeaked out, fingers clawing at the brace. Sam grabbed both of his wrists, pinning them to either side of his head. "Dean, stop, it needs to stay on." Sam said with a stern voice, but Dean kept fighting against him. Tears were now flowing freely down his face as he struggled with Sam. "Castiel! Doctor Novak!" Sam began to start shouting, turning his head back so he could face the door but still holding Dean steady.

Castiel rushed in, taking a moment to survey the situation. All he could see is Sam's back, Sam leaning over Dean, and an obvious struggle making the bed shake and quiver. He walked towards the bed, find Dean's scared eyes on him when he came within eye sight. Dean began struggling even more, terrified eyes widening as he fought to get the brace off.

He couldn't breathe; absently he realized he was hyperventilating and would pass out from lack of oxygen. When Castiel was close enough, Dean raised a hand to reach for him, which Sam let go hesitantly. Castiel gripped his hand, squeezing tightly and using his other hand to brush against Dean's rough cheek. Dean stared at him, still struggling with the hand Sam had restrained.

"Uffff!" Dean said more insistently, gasps were muffled from the brace that came up to his chin. Castiel wiped away a tear with his thumb, stroking Dean's cheekbone. "Okay, we'll take it off but you need to calm down." Dean took a little to process what was said, and slowly he calmed down.

His arms went limp, and Sam cautiously loosened his grip. Once everything was still, Castiel slowly undid the tight neck brace. As his fingers worked, he murmured to Dean, "Please, don't move your neck very much when I take this off. You still need it on." Dean gazed at him, eyes drooping with exhaustion from the fight.

The buckle slipped from its clasp and Castiel was pulling it free. Dean relaxed completely when it was off, no longer feeling so claustrophobic. One of his tentative hands came to feel around his neck. The doctor above him watched with sad eyes, following wherever Dean's hands trailed. His body ached completely, tired of fighting against Sam. His hands relaxed at his sides, and once again, Dean raised his eyes to meet blue ones.

Surprisingly to Dean, one of Castiel's hands came to rest on his shoulder and the other gripped Dean's own. With a rush of breath and a slight rustling of wings, Castiel's wings were free. Dean watched them with hooded eyes, making a motion to grab one of them. The one Dean was reaching for came forward and nuzzled under his hand.

He stroked the soft feathers, eyes closing as he reveled in the soothing feel of them. His fingers stroked the spine of one of the longer feathers, noticing that Castiel shivered. He trailed back up to the bone of the wing and grabbed a handful of feathers, squeezing gently. A soft gasp fell from Castiel's lips, and the man narrowed his eyes at Dean.

Dean noticed Sam smirking out of the corner of his eye, and he turned to look at his younger brother. He gave him a soft, tentative smile in apology for the fighting. Sam nodded, still smiling sweetly as Dean. He took his hand and gently ruffled Dean's blondish-brown hair, being gentle not to jostle his head. The older man batted the hand away, embarrassed to be shown such an affectionate touch in front of Castiel.

Castiel only watched with a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He rested his other hand on Dean's cheek, causing the man to look back at him with wide eyes. Castiel leaned down, watching Dean's own green eyes dart between his lips and eyes. His smile got wider as he pressed a chaste kiss to the corner of Dean's mouth.

He pulled back, awaiting Dean's reaction. The other man stared up at Castiel, eyes wide and mouth parted slightly. Dean reached up to Castiel's coat, and he tugged roughly on it, Castiel following with wide eyes. The doctor caught himself with his hands on either side of Dean's head, and he stared down at the pink lips in front of him.

Sam, feeling unsurprisingly awkward, cleared his throat and quickly made his exit. Castiel chuckled at that, not moving from his position. Both men's breaths were coming fast now, warm air being puffed out in between them. Dean swallowed gently and opened his mouth, trying once again to speak. "Kisss mmmee." He begged, voice still rough.

Castiel smiled a full smile this time, teeth and everything; causing Dean to catch his breath. The man above him was beautiful, a true angel. Dean's hands, still wound in the white coat, tugged gently once more, spurring Castiel into action.

The doctor tilted his head down, catching Dean's bottom lip with his own. He pulled on it gently before releasing it and moving onto the upper lip. Lips pressed together, slotting perfectly as Castiel moved his head. Both of his hands were on Dean's cheeks, forcing him not to move his own head.

A groan slipped from Dean's mouth, making him blush furiously as Castiel chuckled against him. The sound reverberated throughout Dean, causing him to curl his toes and reach a hand to grip at the back of Castiel's head. With his hand, he pushed Castiel down harder, using the surprised gasp to let his tongue slip into his mouth.

Tongues pressed together, caught in the heat of each other's mouth. Castiel dipped his chin, allowing him to press even more into the man below him. He lifted one hand from Dean's cheek to grip the bed. As soon as his hand was down, Castiel climbed up the bed and settled himself over Dean. He was on his knees, leaning forward and pushing as much as he could into the kiss.

Dean had to break the kiss, head falling to the side as he gasped quietly for air. Castiel took the chance to trial wet kisses down his neck, nipping and licking everywhere. The hand that was curled around Castiel's neck slipped farther into his hair. Dean pulled lightly at soft dark brown strands in his hand. Castiel moaned lowly against his skin, forehead resting against Dean's cheek.

Raising his head, Castiel pressed a closed mouth kiss to Dean's lips once more. A contented sigh and heavy breathing filled up the room with sound. They stared at each other, merely inches apart as they studied one another. Castiel's legs were starting to grow weary from the kneeling so he leaned back onto his calves.

The door opened quietly, and both men turned to see Gabriel poke his head through. He smiled lazily at the both of them, twizzler hanging out of his mouth. He straightened up and pushed the door open fully, revealing a giant behind him. Sam raised an awkward hand in greeting and looked down sheepishly at his shoes. Castiel huffed in annoyance at his brother and removed himself from the bed.

Once he was firmly on the ground, he took the neck brace in his hands and looked sadly at Dean. Dean's eyes darted from the brace to him in realization. He stared at Castiel, terrified as he tried to shake his head. Immediately, Castiel placed a hand on his cheek to stop the movement and spoke in a hushed whisper, "It's just for a little bit more, you need it."

A tear streaked down Dean's cheek slowly, and he squeezed his eyes shut tightly. He heaved a deep breath and gave a small nod to the man next to him. As Castiel began replacing the neck brace, Gabriel walked over and placed a solemn hand on Dean's own. Glad for the distraction, he looked up at Gabriel with teary eyes and a small smile. Sam appeared next to him, smiling down at Dean.

With the neck brace firmly in place, Dean's awful claustrophobia made an appearance again. He did his best to breathe through the fear, eyes continually shifting between the three men in front of him. He reached for Castiel's hand, squeezing it tightly with his own. "It will just be on for a little while longer, I promise." Castiel's low voice spoke, soothing the growing fears in Dean's mind.

"Plus, you'll have a badass scar after everything is healed." Sam piped up from behind Gabriel. Dean narrowed his eyes at his younger brother and stuck out his tongue. Sam chuckled at his brother's childish behavior and stuck his tongue out too. Gabriel and Castiel watched the exchange with curious eyes, laughing at both men.

Castiel's wings appeared once more, as did Gabriel's, which Dean saw was a beautiful sandy color. Just like Sammy said. The brother's wrapped one wing around each other, Gabriel wrapping his other around Sam's shoulders. Castiel used his free one to caress Dean's side with the soft feathers. With both wings, everyone was almost completely covered, hidden from view. The four of them, all huddled together, gave a sense of security to Dean, something he hadn't felt in a long time.

For the first time in a long time, Dean thought that maybe he could have a family.


	10. Chapter 10

It took a while for Dean to heal, he wasn't exactly making it easy for the nurses. At every chance he could, he took off the neck brace, slowing his recovery time considerably. He didn't care though, as long as he wasn't in that thing he was happy. Finally, after almost two weeks of lying motionless in the hospital bed, Dean was released.

Castiel was ecstatic that Dean was finally well enough to go home, and he eagerly sorted through Dean's things that were to be moved to their house. Most everything went with him, except for a few furniture pieces that he decided they wouldn't need. With Sam's help, he carefully collected each of Dean's prized possessions and moved them over.

He was excited for Dean to see the house that he had crafted. He spent a lot of his time there, preparing for Dean's arrival when he wasn't at the hospital. Everything was carefully cleaned to an inch of its life. Their bedroom was smoothed over, pillows ruffled, carpets vacuumed over and over again. He was so ready to begin his life with Dean.

Dean, on the other hand, was nervous to say the least. He had no clue what this house was like, and he didn't understand why he had to just up and move in with Castiel. He thought everything was going a little too fast for his liking. Gabriel sat down with him at the hospital and explained the expectations of Nephilim and what being True Mates meant. It helped, he understood now why Castiel was so eager for Dean to be there. It didn't mean he had to like it though.

The day came for when Dean was to walk out of the hospital for good. He still begrudgingly wore the neck brace, but refused the wheel chair they offered. The moment he stepped outside, Dean inhaled deeply and spread his arms wide. The sun felt amazing and warm against his skin.

There was a slight breeze that felt cool against his skin, making the hair on his head rustle slightly. It smelled like pine trees everywhere, it was overwhelming his nose. He opened his eyes, which had been forced closed by the bright sun. He looked up at the sky, which was a soft shade of blue which was obscured by white fluffy clouds.

Everything was good, he thought to himself, nothing could ruin this moment. And he was right, nothing did ruin his moment. But the moment was over too soon, and he was being ushered into Castiel's rickety old car. He smiled once he was settled inside it, and ran his fingers over the rough cloth of the seat. He couldn't really remember much from his first trip in this car, but he was glad he could see it again.

He would have to fix it up, that much was obvious. The car was on its last leg of life, bumping and scuttling at every pothole and turn. The windows were jammed closed and the steering wheel had lost some of its flexibility. But it was Castiel's car and he appreciated it still the same. He thought about working on it, and the thought made excitement tingle under his skin.

The trip from the hospital to their new house didn't take long, only a few windy turns and a long driveway. The house was in the middle of woods, surrounded by beautiful pine and oak trees. Odd mixture for trees, Dean thought, but he liked it all the same. The leaves were full and bushy, just beginning to change color. It obscured the house, which was hidden from view until they were practically on it.

The house itself looked to be at least a hundred years old. The walls were made of gray stones piled on each other and dark wood planks in accented places. It was a beautiful two-story tall building. Honestly, it looked like something out of a fairy tale, it even had a tower that climbed high into the sky and held a pointy roof on top. Dean laughed at the thought of a princess calling out the window.

He walked along the gravel pathway to the house, watching his feet as the ground underneath him shuffled. When he got to the front porch, he looked up at the swing that was hanging from an outcropped ceiling. It was made of the same beautiful dark wood that the rest of the house was accented with. The wood was soft when Dean touched it, and he ran his fingers along the rail that lead up to the red painted door.

His hand on the handle scared him, and he froze in place. He wasn't ready for a new life, he didn't like change and this was way too much for him to handle. He couldn't do this, he realized as he let go of the handle and began to back up. A strong hand over his stopped him, and together they placed their hands back on the handle.

Dean looked over his shoulder the best he could to where Castiel stood behind him. The man stared intently into his eyes, memorizing the patterned of freckles that dotted along Dean's cheeks. They stared at each other for a moment, before Castiel tilted his head down and spoke, "Together." He said in a deep, calming voice. Dean gulped and looked back down at their hands.

He watched as his hand, along with Castiel's, turned the handle and pushed the door wide open. He closed his eyes as soon as his hand left the handle, afraid to look at the new life in front of him. Castiel placed his hands on Dean's hips, guiding them both inside the doorway. Once they were inside, and Castiel had closed the door, he pressed a small kiss to Dean's neck.

It was time for him to open his eyes. Dean peeked through one eye, taking in the spacious living room that was laid out in front of him. The walls were painted a light grey color, and the furniture itself was as mismatched as possible. One couch had polka dots that were bright blue while another smaller chair had black and white zig zag patterns running across it. It surprisingly looked good, Dean thought.

He smiled at the pictures that were placed on top of the stone fireplace. There was a picture of him and Sam, smiling in front of a seedy motel. Another picture was of Castiel and Gabriel, both of them with their arms around each other. Gabriel had a huge grin on his face, while Castiel only showed a hint of a smile. In Gabriel's right hand, a huge fish was held up as a prize. They looked adorable, Dean smiled at Castiel once he finished studying the picture.

He moved to the next one and felt his breath caught in his throat. It was an old picture, the edges worn over time and the paper crinkled as if it was folded into a wallet. He saw his mom, young and beautiful. He had never seen her like this, his dad hiding most of the pictures when she died. How did Castiel have these? Dean wondered silently, fingers tracing the outline of his moms face.

A tear slipped down his cheek as he walked slowly into the next room. It was a quaint kitchen with stone countertops and light wood cabinets. There was an island with a sink carved into one side and stools surrounding the other. The stove was massive, having six hot pads that were ready for use. Two other sinks were next to the silver fridge that was standing tall in the corner. The stools were a black leather top that somehow matched the dark colors of the stone countertops. Just looking at this room made Dean's stomach growl in anticipation.

Time to move on. He turned left, finding himself in front of a steep stairway. The walls were covered in pictures of Castiel's family and Dean's family. The entirety of it all made a beautiful collage that Dean stroked as he walked up the steps. The stairs creaked slightly under the weight of Dean's feet. Reaching the top, he looked at the three doors in front of him. One door was a simple white door, nothing particularly fancy or interesting about it. The second door was a light brown wood door with simple designed carved into the woodwork. The third and final door looked like something from a museum, it was deep red wood that had roses and trees delicately carved into it.

That was obviously the master bedroom, Dean thought, so he might as well choose the least expensive. He turned the cold metal handle of the door and pushed it open. It was a bathroom with a standing shower stall and simple white sink. It looked a little crowded, Dean doubted that Castiel could fit in here with his wings. As he was looking around Castiel said, "this is for you, if you need alone time, and Sam when he comes to visit." Dean looked over his shoulder at the black haired man and nodded, smiling slightly in thanks.

He backed out of the bathroom and turned to the next door, this would probably be the guest room. He opened the door and peaked in, the room in front of him was quite a bit larger than the bathroom. The walls were a sandy brown with white near the top of them. At one corner of the room sat a roundish bed that was dressed with fluffy sand-colored comforters. It looked like it might actually be long enough for Sam. On the back wall of the room, a large wooden dresser stood, looking like it was a hundred years old. There was a light blue carpet on the floor, looking like water next to sand with the bed. The room was fantastic, simple enough that Sam wouldn't be overwhelmed but still beautiful.

He nodded in approval and turned to the final door. Taking in a deep breath he reached out to trace one of the roses carved into the wood. It was smooth and beautiful, no doubt like how the room would be. His hand shook slightly as he gripped the handle and turned it. He pushed it open and glanced around the room. His breath was taken away by what he saw. The room itself was a deep blue color with light green swirled brushed into the pattern.

In the middle of the room, a circular shaped bed was indented into the floor. Three steps surrounding the entire circle led down to the mattress. Dean toed off his shoes and walked down to the mattress. The moment he stepped on it, it sunk underneath him, soft feathers tickling at his toes. He knelt down before spreading out completely over the bed. It was large enough where if he starfished he couldn't reach the edges of the mattress. The bed formed around him, supporting his body exactly where he wanted it.

Touching the mattress, he found that actual feathers were underneath the first cover, providing a softer experience. He gently pulled one out and examined it. Maybe it was one of Castiel's? It was dark blue with a black spine. He twisted his body, looking up at Castiel to find him standing there. "I found one of your feathers." Dean said, smirking and holding up the object in question. Castiel shifted on his feet, staring at them as he formed the words in his mouth.

"It is costume to take molted feathers from the two paired and use them to create the nest. That way, the scent will be intermixed and they will smell like each other. Also, it provides a wonderful bed." Dean could tell that Castiel felt awkward saying this. His twitching hands kept wring around each other. Dean sat up and reached for Castiel, an innocent smile on his face. Castiel smiled back at him and leaned down to grab Dean's hand. Dean grinned evilly and pulled as hard as he could, causing Castiel to fall onto the bed with a yelp. The blue-eyed man ended above the other man, grinning and blushing as he rose to his elbows.

Dean reached up to grip the back of Castiel's neck as he pulled him forward. Gently, still careful of Dean's injured neck, Castiel pressed a chaste kiss to Dean's lips. He smiled into the kiss, a hand coming to grip Dean's soft brown hair. Dean groaned slightly when he felt Castiel's grip tighten, and he broke the kiss to lean his head back. Castiel eagerly moved to his neck, kissing and nipping at the tender area.

"But I don't have feathers." Dean said breathlessly. Castiel huffed a laugh against Dean's skin and his head fell forward to lean against Dean's shoulder. "We will have to use old shirts that you no longer use. Those have your delicious scent infused in every stitch and will work just as well as feathers." Dean nodded and turned his head slowly to kiss Castiel's cheek. A deep chuckle rumbled in Castiel's chest that sent shivers down Dean's toes. He groaned lowly into Castiel's cheek and bit at his ear lobe.

Castiel ran a hand up Dean's chest, thumb ghosting over a nipple under the shirt, causing Dean to slightly arch his back. One of Castiel's hand came to press Dean's shoulder down into the mattress. "No moving." He growled out, teeth grazing the scars healing at Dean's neck. Nodding, Dean pressed his hand up Castiel's back, feeling the strong coiled muscles shift under the skin.

"Relax, let me take care of you." Castiel whispered hotly into Dean's ear. He shivered excitedly and let his body relax, relishing in the tongue curling around his neck. "Okay." He breathed out, closing his eyes.

*****sexy times that I'm not gonna write******

Dean fell asleep that night, faced pressed into the soft mattress and breathing in the scent of Castiel. He shifted his body, feeling Castiel's wings curl tighter around him. He was content.


End file.
